Not So Lonely Anymore
by BrandNewHappiness
Summary: Spoilers for Season 3, episodes 1 & 2. Set at the end of The Sign of Three. One shot, maybe more(?). Sherlock exits the wedding early, pursued by one Molly Hooper.


**_A/N. So... I should be working, or updating my other story (sorry... it will be soon I promise...) but the recent episode of Sherlock is in my head and won't get out! Wrote this short, fluffy piece to keep me satisfied. Bit rushed but (as much as I hate to admit it) I have lots of work to do! _**

**_Sherlolly, ahoy! _**

* * *

Soft footsteps follow him outside.

"Sherlock?" The unmistakable squeak of Molly's voice comes from behind him. She sounds unsure. Concerned. He knows why she's here, and knows that she sees his problems a lot more than others. Or maybe she just cares more. It would be irritating if Sherlock's heart didn't hurt so much.

He hums a response, still unable to say anything proper. He tries to kick his mind back into touch, but all he can feel or see is his own loneliness. Even here, in the now comforting presence of Molly Hooper, he feels more lonely than ever.

"Are you okay?" She walks up to his still form, and notices he pulls his coat around his protectively. His stance and body language tell her that she isn't welcome to wallow with him, but when does she ever just leave him alone?

"Fine, Molly." He answers shortly, finding his voice.

"You… You look like you did at Barts… Before…"

He wants… he _needs_ to smile, but he can't muster up a simple combination of muscle movements in order to make Molly go back inside, so he could be alone. Maybe he could practice being by himself again. For the future.

"I'm fine."

Molly scoffs. "You're not fine. Your best friend just got married, Mary's pregnant-"

At this, he snaps his head up to look at her. "How did you know Mary's pregnant?"

"You're not the only one who can deduce things." She smiles, wanting to reach out and pull this oversized child into her arms, but stops short when she realises that, whilst this is what she wants, it won't be what Sherlock wants. Plus, she had Tom to account for now. No more rash actions, Molly Hooper, she tells herself constantly.

"Besides…" She continues. "It's okay to be… not okay."

There's a moment of silence before Sherlock slowly reaches out to her and takes her hand, his fingers knotting through hers. He chooses her right hand, unwilling to feel the unspeakable silver on Molly's third finger on his skin. It's a friendly notion, not overwhelmingly romantic, but Molly's heart quickens, and she stifles a very obvious gasp. He squeezes her hand hard as he speaks, unaware of Molly's uncomfortable expression.

"I always used to say that alone was what protected me. I was right."

She doesn't notice the tears on her cheeks until Sherlock frowns. _"You're_ not supposed to cry."

Molly tried to laugh but it comes out as a strangled choke. "Some of us are feeling sentimental."

"What do you mean _some of us_? I'm as sentimental as it gets right now, Molly. I feel… _sad_. Alone. And I can't shake the feeling that it's going to be harder for me in these next few years to even comprehend loneliness, because of the pleasurable company I now keep. Kept."

"Nothing will change, Sherlock. John won't be at your beck and call now, but it doesn't mean that he won't be there for you." Molly's hand goes numb under the tight grip of Sherlock's fingers.

"It's not just John, Molly."

"Not just John? Then-" Realisation strikes her and she returns the squeeze of fingers as much as possible.

"Mrs Hudson really doesn't love Mr Chatterjee enough to marry him, Sherlock."

"Not Mrs Hudson." He rolls his eyes. "You. This wedding made me realise that, whilst I've just lost John-"

"-You haven't lost him-" She mutters, even though she's partly in shock from Sherlock's sentimentality and openness. Sherlock scowls.

"-Whilst I've just lost John, I'll be losing you, too. And then all it takes is for Lestrade to move on, and I'm back where I started."

"You… You'll miss me?" She chatters, the cold finally setting in. It's a long time before Sherlock replies, and spews out the words he's wanted to say since day one.

"I'm selfish and inconsiderate. I don't want you to marry him." Sherlock sighs. "I don't want you to disappear. John and I have a closer relationship in regards to confidence and cases, but you and I have a more… emotive relationship. You bring out the best in me, Molly. And with you and John gone, I'm ...afraid I'll turn into a bitter wreck of a person I was before. Or worse."

At this she slides her fingers from his grasp and shakes her head. "Sherlock." She starts, tears filling her eyes at just the sound of his name. "You… You can't expect me to drop everything because you want me to be there for you. I was like… like a loyal puppy, and now I'm… It's great that you're actually feeling something, Sherlock, but you… you can't hold me responsible for you."

At this Sherlock freezes. "I've already lost you, then?"

Molly stays quiet. Not because she doesn't want to answer, but because she doesn't know what to answer. Sherlock takes out a cigarette and lights it.

"I thought you'd quit."

"Not really the concern here." He answers shortly.

"I… I should go back. People are probably wondering where I've gone."

She turns to leave when she hears Sherlock scoff. "People. You mean Tom. I don't know what you see in that man. The sex is only good because he's a porn addict with stupidly high expectations, he has childhood traumas that he'll burden on you later, his mother is an alcoholic and he has more than friendly feelings for his own sister. Not to mention that his IQ is impossibly small. _Meat dagger._" He scoffs again. "Besides, you don't love him."

There's another bout of unwelcome silence as Molly takes this in.

"Molly…" He backtracks, realising what he'd said. "Molly, I didn't-"

"Goodnight Sherlock." Molly swallows and begins to walk back to the reception.

"Molly. Wait." He runs alongside her surprisingly fast strides, and grabs her arm. "Molly I'm sorry. I-"

"You're always right Sherlock. Always." Molly tries to wriggle out of his grasp and fails. She hides her face from him. "When did it become this dramatic between us?" She asks.

"When I realised that people move on."

"You're just scared of being alone, Sherlock. So am I. That's why I'm moving on, getting married."

"You're marrying him because you don't want to be alone?"

Molly realises what she's said and sighs. She's tired of arguing with him.

"I'm marrying him because I lo-love him."

"You can't even say that right!" He throws up his arms in exasperation.

"Says the man who can't- and won't- ever fall in love with anyone!" She finds her voice rising in volume and pitch, and fights to control herself. There are guests inside, and she's not going to make a scene at Mary and John's wedding reception. Well, not more than Sherlock's 'murder' revelation, anyway.

"How do you know, Molly Hooper?" Sherlock's voice is quiet now, and Molly is too emotional to notice the look Sherlock is giving her.

"Because the only person you've ever loved is platonically. And you remind us all the time that you're a… a high functioning sociopath!"

Molly doesn't even realise Sherlock is so close, when he reaches out and pulls her in. She's expecting him to just wrap his arms around her, but when he bows his head down to her level and presses his lips to hers, she freezes.

But it's so warm. His coat is wrapped around her, and he kisses her softly, his lips brushing tenderly across hers. He pulls her even closer, and his lips force hers apart. Before she realises, she's wrapped in a passionate embrace with the formerly –thought-to-be-asexual Sherlock Holmes. Her hands go up to his hair, and she buries her fingers in his curls.

They break apart slowly, and Molly gasps for breath.

"Does that feel like a high functioning sociopath who can never care for anyone?" He asks. His tone is joking, but his face is serious. She would've pushed him away, but that little comment made her heart flutter, and unrealistic expectations pop into her head, as she looked into his blue-green eyes, dumbfounded. He leans in to kiss her again, when a sharp voice interrupts.

"Molly?" It was the one voice she did not want to hear at this moment in time.

"Tom." She disentangled herself from Sherlock's grasp. "I-I-"

Sherlock walks off, with a mutter that sounds like, "I'll let you have some privacy."

Tom's shoulder's drop. His puppy dog cuteness has been replaced by a more 'adult like' pain. It ages him. Molly's heart wrenches with guilt. She's a bad person. She's greedy, selfish. She's still in love with Sherlock Holmes. And yet that doesn't faze her. Other than the hurt on Tom's face, she feels lighter. She notices that he's holding his hand out, and knows it isn't in order to hold hers.

She swallows, and her hand goes to the ring on her left finger. She takes it off and places it in Tom's outstretched palm.

"I knew it, Molly. I knew it before you could say anything." He smiles sadly. "It's okay."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have dragged you along like I did, Tom. It wasn't fair." She sighs and holds back tears. "I love you. But not… not as much as…"

Tom pulls her into a hug that she doesn't fight. "I knew that when I asked you to marry me. Honestly, I thought it would give you a reason to break up with me."

"You wanted to break up with me?"

"No, Molls. I wanted you to figure out what made you happy. And that's not me."

He pulls away from her with a watery smile. Molly manages to return it. "I was happy." She muttered. "Just not _content_."

"I knew it the moment you delayed living with me. And marrying me, Mols. This is just saving time." He brushes a hand through his hair. "I'll get a taxi home then. Thank you, Molls. For everything."

She wants to tell him to stay, enjoy himself. But she can tell from the slant of his shoulders that he doesn't want to be here. He doesn't tell her about how he was counting the days down until Sherlock decided he couldn't let Molly go. He saw the way they looked at each other when they thought they weren't watching.

She nods and manages to smile. "I… I'm sorry. And thank you. It was good to try, I think. Um, good luck for the future, Tom. Sorry for stabbing you with a fork, too."

"It's okay. And you too, Molls. Go find him." He hugs her one last time and walks away, out of her eyesight. It takes all his strength to not run back and demand he can be Sherlock. But he knows he's nothing but a second-best case, and besides- he couldn't even make Molly happy. She watches him disappear and finds herself giggling. Only the giggles become sobs and by the time Sherlock returns, she's half crying, half laughing. He frowns.

"Did you-"

"Yeah." Her sobs die out and she takes a deep breath. "Should probably go back inside, actually."

"Do you blame me?"

"No." She says, sure of it. "It's me. It's always me. Well, except for Jim. That was definitely him." She grimaces and pushes down revulsion.

Tired of ranting, she turns around to return to the reception when Sherlock suddenly throws his arms around her. She reciprocates gladly, turning into him and feels the soft material of his suit rub against her cheek. His coat is around her again, and she feels warm and safe in his arms. Again.

"Another relationship down the pan." She jokes, although her heart hurts when she says the words into Sherlock's chest.

"Hm. That's my fault. I wonder why it's always me?"

"Maybe it's because you love me." She says, giggling. Obviously joking.

"Maybe I do."

Molly is frozen. Did he just say that he loved her? Or maybe-loved her? Either way, her guilt was thrown out of the window and elation took its place. She feels his fingers brush through her hair and gently push her back by her shoulders. She thinks he's pushing her away, and tears gather in her eyes. Maybe he didn't love her. This _was_ Sherlock, after all.

But instead, a light finger rests under her chin, pulling her head up. Sherlock smiles. A genuine smile that makes his eyes crinkle.

"I'm sorry, Molly Hooper. I'm sure I'll be able to make it up to you."

"You mean, like, no ordering me around at work?" She says hopefully, jokingly. He just looks confused.

"Well, no. I mean… If that's what you want…" He lets go of her quickly. "I was suggesting..."

Molly grins. Sherlock holds out his hand with sudden realisation.

"I'm not used to you teasing." He admits with a smile.

Molly laughs, and takes his hand. "I'm not used to you being nice to me."

"That can change. It _has_ changed."

Sherlock starts to walk her toward from the building, and she stops in her tracks.

"I… I, um, can't just go in there holding your hand." Molly says.

"Why not?" He frowns. "Oh. You just broke up with Tom. Right."

He lets go of her hands, and offers her an arm. She links her arm through his. "Much more proper."

"Proper? Not really…" She mutters.

"I looked up social etiquette for weddings on the internet. And _this_," he gestures toward their linked arms, "is completely acceptable."

Sherlock and Molly walk back into the reception and onto the dance floor. Molly expects people to glance their way, but only Greg is looking, and he smiles widely and nods. Everyone else is in their own private bubble, and Sherlock is no longer the centre of attention. Seeing this, he slips his arm out of hers and smiles.

"Would you dance with me, Molly Hooper?"

He doesn't feel so lonely anymore.


End file.
